Sharitta Marshall On How To Thrive Despite Experiencing Impostor Syndrome

Call Out the System, Not Yourself. If you feel like an outsider, it’s probably because the space was never built to include your brilliance in the first place. I remember being in a leadership meeting where I was the only Black woman in the room. I had the credentials, the experience, the results — and still, I felt like I didn’t belong. I kept questioning myself until I finally realized: this discomfort isn’t about me. It’s about a space that wasn’t designed with me in mind. Once I named that, I stopped shrinking and started making space for myself on purpose.

As a part of our series about how very accomplished leaders were able to succeed despite experiencing Imposter Syndrome, I had the pleasure of interviewing Sharitta Marshall.

Sharitta Marshall is a transformational leader, speaker, and curriculum designer who believes no one should be traumatized just to pay bills. She’s made it her life’s work to empower Black professionals to lead with authenticity, navigate corporate spaces with confidence, and redefine success on their own terms. Her message is clear and consistent: everyone deserves to feel seen, heard, and valued.

A proud graduate of Howard University with a BBA and an MBA from Arizona State University, Sharitta also holds numerous professional certifications. But what truly sets her apart is her ability to bridge lived experience with strategy — helping Black professionals rise without having to assimilate or apologize.

Sharitta is the founder of Visionary Development Consulting, a firm specializing in Employee Resource Group (ERG) program management. Through her consulting work, she partners with organizations to build inclusive, supportive environments that empower professionals. She also leads a thriving business offering leadership development, coaching, and workshops that center Black professionals in their corporate journeys, guiding them to master communication, advocacy, personal branding, and culture navigation.

She’s the author of The Unwritten Rules Are Meant to Be Broke: Breaking Barriers, Thriving in Corporate Spaces, and Redefining Success as a Black Leader. Her companion program brings the book’s principles to life, helping participants reclaim their leadership identity and succeed without compromise.

Whether coaching an emerging leader or consulting on ERG initiatives, Sharitta is committed to empowering individuals and organizations to embrace inclusivity and authentic leadership. Her work is more than just professional development, it’s about career liberation, dismantling barriers, and creating spaces where Black professionals can thrive.

Thank you so much for joining us! Our readers would love to “get to know you” a bit better. Can you tell us a bit about your ‘backstory’?

Sure! I’m Sharitta Marshall, and I’m a speaker, curriculum designer, and the founder of Visionary Development Consulting. But more than that, I’m someone who believes no one should be traumatized just to pay their bills. I’ve built my life’s work around helping professionals, especially Black and marginalized folks — lead with authenticity, navigate corporate spaces with confidence, and define success on their own terms.

I grew up in Detroit, raised by three generations of strong Black women who showed me what resilience, purpose, and power look like. I’m a proud graduate of Howard University (where I earned my BBA) and Arizona State University (where I earned my MBA), and I’ve collected quite a few professional certifications along the way. I work with both individuals and organizations to create spaces where people can thrive, not just survive.

Now, the deeper reason I do this work. It’s personal. At one point, I sat down and calculated how much I’d lost in income over the course of my career because I was underemployed, overlooked, dismissed, or straight-up unemployed. The number was close to $1.5 million. That hit me hard. And I knew it wasn’t because I lacked talent or drive, it was because I was trying to succeed using a playbook that was never written with me in mind.

So I stopped following those unwritten rules. I broke them. And then I wrote my own.

That led to my book, The Unwritten Rules Are Meant to Be Broken: Breaking Barriers, Thriving in Corporate Spaces, and Redefining Success as a Black Leader. I also created a podcast and YouTube series to keep the conversation going in real time.

At the heart of all this, I just want folks to know — they’re not alone. If you’ve been told to shrink, to settle, or to “wait your turn” I’m here to tell you, you don’t have to. You can build a career and a life you actually love. And yes, you can do it on your own terms.

Can you share with us the most interesting story from your career? Can you tell us what lessons or ‘take aways’ you learned from that?

One of the most interesting and honestly, formative story from my career happened early on, during a performance review. My manager told me, very directly, “You smile too much.” That was the whole comment. No context. No deeper explanation. Just that.

It completely caught me off guard. I was still fairly new in my career, and I didn’t know how to respond or even what to ask. Smiling wasn’t in my job description. It had nothing to do with the quality of my work. And yet, there it was — framed as a negative in my review.

At the time, I internalized it. I took it personally. I remember thinking, “Okay… I guess I need to smile less.” But I didn’t understand why. What was I doing wrong? Was it unprofessional? Was someone uncomfortable? There was no conversation, no context, no clarity, just judgment. And because I didn’t yet have the tools or confidence to probe deeper, I held that comment in silence, and it stuck with me.

Now, years later, with the lens I have today, I recognize how problematic that moment was. It had nothing to do with my performance and everything to do with perception possibly bias. And more importantly, it taught me something huge about leadership.

If I wanted to lead people well, I needed to lead differently. That experience taught me how not to manage. Great leadership requires clear communication. Timely, respectful feedback. And context. You don’t wait until performance review season to bring something up especially if it’s something that impacts someone’s growth, confidence, or perception. Because when you do, you’re not leading, you’re catching people off guard. You’re missing the opportunity to actually support them.

So today, whether I’m coaching a leader or developing a curriculum, I always emphasize this: feedback without context isn’t feedback, it’s confusion. And confusion breaks trust.

That one moment about “smiling too much” shaped how I lead to this day. Because no one should have to dim who they are just to survive feedback that lacks clarity, purpose, or care.

What do you think makes your company stand out? Can you share a story?

What makes my company stand out? Me.

Right now, I am my company and the heartbeat of everything I do is grounded in one clear mission: no one should be traumatized to pay bills, and everyone deserves to feel seen, heard, and valued in the work they do.

That’s the why behind everything I build at Visionary Development Consulting. Whether I’m managing ERG programming, coaching leaders, or designing curriculum I always start with the outcome. I ask, “What do you really want?” And once you tell me that big picture, I go into puzzle-maker mode. My brain naturally breaks things down into steps, tools, and strategy that align with the vision. Whether it’s a leadership development roadmap, a cultural reset, or just helping someone feel grounded again in a space that’s been shaking them I help people see the full picture and the path to get there.

What really makes my work different is how personal I make it. I don’t treat clients like projects, I treat them like people. I listen deeply. I care about how they feel in the context of the work they do. And I design solutions that not only help them succeed professionally — but feel whole doing it.

One story that sticks with me: I worked with a client who had been handed a big project with no extra pay or support. They were overwhelmed and honestly felt taken advantage of. But instead of just venting about the unfairness, we reframed the situation into an opportunity. I helped them build a strategy around the project — positioning it in a way that became a case study for their leadership. They were able to take something that felt like a burden and turn it into leverage both inside the organization and for their next move. And the most important thing? They felt seen. They felt heard. They felt powerful again.

That’s what I do. I help people reclaim their voice, their value, and their vision. Whether or not they choose to stay where they are, they’ll never walk away from working with me doubting what they’re capable of.

That deep personal investment, that’s what makes my company stand out.

None of us are able to achieve success without some help along the way. Is there a particular person who you are grateful towards who helped get you to where you are? Can you share a story?

I wish I could say it was just one person who helped me get to where I am, but honestly, it’s been different people at different points in my journey. Teachers, mentors, friends but if I had to name the catalyst, the person who really laid the foundation for all of this, that would be my mom

My mom was the one who taught me the importance of education, hard work, and self-reliance. She always said, “You can’t wait on anyone else to do it for you, you’re going to have to figure it out.” And she didn’t just say it, she lived it. She worked two jobs most of my life, and even when things were tough, she showed up. That mindset she passed down to me, this belief that no matter what, I had the responsibility and the ability to figure things out, has carried me through every phase of my life.

Now, did that lesson come with some weight? Absolutely. It taught me to push through when I needed help. It taught me to do it alone, even when I shouldn’t have had to. And that’s a complicated truth. But it also shaped who I became.

It’s why I take the work I do so seriously. It’s why I pour into my clients the way I do. Because I know what it feels like to ask for help and not get it or to receive it in a way that makes you feel like a burden. I never want anyone who works with me to feel that. I want people to leave our work together feeling resourced, respected, and restored.

So even though my mother is no longer here in the physical, her voice is with me every day. She was my first example of strength, and she remains the reason I show up the way I do for myself, and for everyone I support.

Ok thank you for all that. Now let’s shift to the main focus of this interview. We would like to explore and flesh out the experience of Impostor Syndrome. How would you define Impostor Syndrome? What do people with Imposter Syndrome feel?

For me, imposter syndrome is often defined as this internal feeling — where you doubt your own accomplishments, question whether you belong, and live in fear that at any moment, someone’s going to find out you’re a fraud.

That’s the textbook definition.

But here’s the thing: that definition only tells part of the story — and it completely misses the context that Black professionals and other marginalized folks live in every day.

The truth is, imposter syndrome gets framed as a personal flaw, but it’s often a response to structural and societal bias. When you grow up and work in systems that don’t reflect you, that constantly question your value, that measure excellence through a lens of whiteness or maleness or proximity to power, you start to internalize that. It doesn’t happen overnight. It builds over time.

Historically, the dominant narrative of success was built around whiteness. Around wealth. Around access. So if you don’t fit into that mold — if your name, your tone, your presence, your truth doesn’t match that template — you’re made to feel like you’re the problem.

So what do people with imposter syndrome feel? They feel alone. They feel like they have to overperform to prove themselves. They feel like any mistake will confirm someone else’s belief that they don’t belong. And that’s not just insecurity, that’s survival in systems that were never made with us in mind.

That’s why I call imposter syndrome a fallacy. Not because the feeling isn’t real, but because the way it’s usually explained ignores the context. And if we’re going to really address it, especially for Black and marginalized professionals we have to talk about where those feelings come from.

We’re not just dealing with doubt. We’re dealing with internalized exclusion.

So yes, we need mindset tools. But we also need to dismantle the environments that planted the doubt in the first place.

And I think that’s a conversation we have to keep pushing forward.

What are the downsides of Impostor Syndrome? How can it limit people?

For me, there are only downsides to impostor syndrome. I know some folks try to spin it as a motivator — like, “It pushes me to work harder.” But honestly? That’s not empowerment. That’s survival. And that’s a trauma fueled way to live.

Impostor syndrome is built on internalized messages that tell you you’re not good enough, even when you are. It ignores the very real systemic inequities that create the conditions for that doubt to exist in the first place. So when we talk about it without context, we put the burden on the individual — when really, it’s the system that needs to be questioned.

The biggest downside? Erasure. It erases your wins. Your expertise. Your growth. Your lived experience. You could have the degrees, the credentials, the results but still feel like you have to constantly prove yourself. And when that happens, your confidence takes a hit. Your self-worth starts to bend under the pressure. You stop celebrating what you’ve done because you’re too busy questioning if it’s enough.

I’ve seen so many brilliant, talented people shrink in rooms they should be leading, simply because that voice in their head keeps asking, “Should I even be here?”

And the truth is, that voice didn’t come from nowhere. It came from years of being scrutinized, second-guessed, or passed over. It came from systems that weren’t designed to see you fully.

Impostor syndrome doesn’t just limit people, it invalidates who they are and what they bring. It makes people feel like they need to earn their right to belong over and over again. And that’s not sustainable. It’s exhausting. And it’s harmful.

That’s why I don’t believe in sugar-coating it or romanticizing it. Impostor syndrome has no upside because no one should have to question their brilliance just to feel safe in a space they’ve already earned a seat in.

How can the experience of Impostor Syndrome impact how one treats others?

Impostor syndrome doesn’t just impact the person feeling it, it affects how they treat the people around them too. And I think there are two key ways that shows up.

First, when you’re deep in impostor syndrome, you’re usually sitting in a place of self-erasure, self-doubt, and internalized devaluing. You stop looking at the systems and structures that made you feel like you don’t belong and instead, you turn that energy inward. You start believing you’re the problem, when really, it’s the environment that’s hostile, biased, or just not built to support your brilliance. That inward pressure can make people isolate themselves or stay silent in moments where they should be speaking up, not just for themselves, but for others too.

The second way it shows up and this one can be harder to talk about is how people with low self-worth sometimes respond to others’ success. When someone doesn’t feel valuable, doesn’t feel secure, or is constantly trying to prove their worth, they might end up treating others in harmful ways, even if they don’t realize it.

That might look like throwing a colleague under the bus to deflect attention. Or being hypercritical. Or gatekeeping information. Or just creating an environment where people feel like they have to fight for approval instead of being supported.

And it’s not always because they’re bad people. A lot of times, it’s because they’re in survival mode. But when you’re stuck in that place of insecurity and scarcity, it’s hard to see the bigger picture — or to uplift others when you’re barely standing in your own value.

That’s why it’s so important to understand impostor syndrome in context. Because it’s not just an internal issue, it’s something that can shape entire workplace cultures. If you’ve got teams full of people who don’t feel safe, affirmed, or valued, you’re going to see that show up in their interactions. Not just with themselves — but with each other.

Healing from impostor syndrome isn’t just about building confidence. It’s about creating environments where people don’t feel like they have to compete for belonging.

We would love to hear your story about your experience with Impostor Syndrome. Would you be able to share that with us?

Absolutely, I can share my experience with impostor syndrome and honestly, it’s one I’ll never forget because it didn’t just impact how I showed up at work… it impacted my health, my confidence, and my peace.

I shared this earlier, but it’s worth revisiting. Early in my career, during a performance review, my manager told me, “You smile too much.” That was it. No context. No connection to how I did my actual job. Just that.

And it hit me hard.

I didn’t know how to respond. I didn’t know what to ask. I didn’t even understand why that would be a problem but it was written down as a negative mark against me. So what did I do? I internalized it.

I started second-guessing everything. I thought, “Okay, maybe I should smile less… maybe I should talk less… maybe I should only speak when spoken to…” I was constantly adjusting, shrinking, editing myself in hopes that I’d finally get it “right.” But there was no clear “right.” I was just spiraling, trying to avoid getting dinged again.

And the worst part? I stopped trusting myself to do the job I was hired to do.

That’s what impostor syndrome does. It creeps in slowly, and before you know it, you’re not just doubting your performance, you’re doubting yourself. I became so consumed with fear of doing the wrong thing that I could barely function. I had anxiety attacks and panic attacks at work because I was terrified of being found “wrong” again without warning or reason.

I was exhausted. I was disconnected from my power. And eventually, I had to get on anti-anxiety medication just to manage it all.

So yes, I know exactly what impostor syndrome can do when you’re not just managing your job, but also managing the fear of not being “enough” in someone else’s eyes. And I wouldn’t wish that experience on anyone.

Did you ever shake the feeling off? If yes, what have you done to mitigate it or eliminate it?

Yes, I was absolutely able to shake off the feeling of impostor syndrome but let me be clear: it wasn’t overnight. It took a lot of work. I had to go through therapy. I had to sit with myself and unlearn the messages I had internalized over years of working in spaces that didn’t make room for me.

One of the biggest things I had to do was separate my value from my output. We live in a society that tells us our worth is tied to how much we produce, how much we earn, what we achieve and that’s especially true for Black professionals and other marginalized folks. But I had to learn that my existence alone carries value. Not just what I create. Not just what I deliver. Me.

I also had to work through what I now call corporate PTSD. I had to fully understand that some of the places I existed in were never going to celebrate me. They didn’t want me there regardless of how much I softened myself, proved myself, or performed. I could have contorted into a thousand different versions of “palatable” and still not been enough for people who were committed to misunderstanding me.

And once I saw that clearly, I stopped making their rejection my reflection.

Another big piece of the healing was this: realizing that the negative ways some people responded to me, whether it was microaggressions, sabotage, or just plain disrespect had nothing to do with my abilities. It was about their own insecurities. Their own discomfort with my confidence, my knowledge, my brilliance. And their reaction? That’s on them. I stopped holding it.

I also made a habit of celebrating my wins, all of them. Big or small. I literally created a weekly schedule where I would sit down and write out, “What did I accomplish this week? What made me feel proud?” And I encourage everyone I work with to do the same.

That practice gave me something powerful: a living portfolio of my success. Not just to show others but to show myself. So when that little voice of doubt crept in, I had a track record that said otherwise.

So yes, I shook it off. But not by pretending I was fine. I shook it off by:

• Knowing where my value really comes from
• Refusing to carry other people’s insecurities
• Celebrating my accomplishments — loudly
• And choosing to move in ways that feel freeing, not just “acceptable”

In your opinion, what are 5 steps that someone who is experiencing Impostor Syndrome can take to move forward despite feeling like an “Impostor”?

Absolutely. Here are my top five steps for moving forward even when impostor syndrome tries to take over. These aren’t just mindset shifts, they’re actions.

1. Call Out the System, Not Yourself

If you feel like an outsider, it’s probably because the space was never built to include your brilliance in the first place.

I remember being in a leadership meeting where I was the only Black woman in the room. I had the credentials, the experience, the results — and still, I felt like I didn’t belong. I kept questioning myself until I finally realized: this discomfort isn’t about me. It’s about a space that wasn’t designed with me in mind. Once I named that, I stopped shrinking and started making space for myself on purpose.

2. Keep a “Know That You Know” Folder

Impostor syndrome thrives on you forgetting your wins. So keep a folder, digital or physical, with every reminder of your value. Performance reviews. Shoutouts. Finished projects. Thank-you notes. Screenshots. All of it.

I once worked with a client who didn’t realize the impact she was having until we reviewed her “folder” together. Seeing it all in one place helped her stop minimizing her success. She started owning it. Her tone changed. Her presence shifted.

3. Stay Rooted in Your Why

When things get blurry, your purpose will bring you back to center.

There was a time I was offered a leadership opportunity but without support, resources, or a raise. I almost said no. But then I remembered why I do this work: to make spaces better for the next generation of Black leaders. That clarity helped me reclaim the terms of how I showed up and ask for what I needed to lead with power, not burnout.

4. Refuse to Perform Perfection

You do not have to overwork, over-explain, or over-deliver to prove you belong. Perfection is a trap and it’ll have you spinning yourself in circles, constantly trying to earn approval you already deserve.

I’ve made mistakes. I’ve asked questions. I’ve changed course. And guess what? That didn’t make me less professional. That made me real. Now, I show up with integrity, not pressure. I do great work but I don’t chase perfection. I chase purpose.

5. Find Your Community, Stop Doing This Alone

Impostor syndrome isolates you. It tells you you’re the only one struggling, while everyone else is soaring. That’s a lie.

Every time I’ve sat in community, whether through coaching, support circles, or just real conversations with people I trust — I’ve remembered: I’m not the only one. And more importantly, I’m not the only one committed to healing, growing, and unlearning.

Impostor syndrome is real but it’s not the truth.
You can move forward. You can lead. You can thrive.
Not by pretending it’s not there, but by building the tools to rise anyway.

And you don’t have to do it alone.

You are a person of great influence. If you could inspire a movement that would bring the most amount of good to the greatest amount of people, what would that be? You never know what your idea can trigger. :-)

If I could inspire a movement that brings the greatest good to the greatest number of people, it would be this:

A movement rooted in radical self-worth and systemic accountability.

A movement where people, especially Black professionals, are no longer forced to choose between success and authenticity. Where we stop contorting ourselves to fit into systems that were never designed for us, and instead, we build new structures that honor who we are. Fully. Boldly. Without apology.

It would be a movement that says: You don’t have to suffer to succeed.

And rest? Rest wouldn’t be a reward, it would be required. Because rest is not laziness. Rest is productive. It’s where clarity happens. It’s where healing begins. It’s where innovation is born. We’ve been conditioned to equate burnout with value but I want to disrupt that narrative completely. Rest is part of the work.

In this movement, our wellness matters just as much as our wins. Our voices, our ideas, our identities would be affirmed, not just accommodated. Emotional health would be prioritized alongside performance reviews. Leadership would look like wholeness, not just hustle.

I’d want Black professionals who’ve spent years code-switching and over-delivering just to feel safe at work to finally exhale. I’d want us all to believe, deeply, that we are allowed to thrive and rest. To lead and protect our peace.

If my work can be part of a spark, one that moves us toward liberation, joy, and equity, then I’m all in.

We are blessed that some very prominent leaders read this column. Is there a person in the world, or in the US, with whom you would love to have a private breakfast or lunch, and why? He or she might just see this, especially if we tag them :-)

If I could have a private lunch or dinner with anyone in the world, hands down, it would be Ava DuVernay, the award-winning director, producer, screenwriter, and all-around creative force.

I admire not just what she creates, but how she creates. She gives voice to people and stories that are often ignored or misrepresented, and she does it with so much depth, care, and authenticity. Her work feels intentional. And I see so much of my own mission reflected in that making sure Black and marginalized people feel seen, heard, and valued, not just tolerated.

I’d love to sit across from her and just listen. Hear her talk about why she got started, why she keeps going, and how she chooses to lead with such clear purpose. I know she often talks about getting into filmmaking “later in life,” but I don’t think that’s a flaw — I think it’s a perfect example that timing doesn’t define talent. She came in exactly when she needed to, with something powerful to say and the tools to say it her way.

And I would want to know: how does she stay grounded in her authenticity while navigating systems that often want to dilute it? What keeps her rooted? What keeps her lit?

Because for me, that kind of conversation wouldn’t just be inspiring, it would be a masterclass in staying true to your voice, no matter how loud the world gets.

How can our readers follow you on social media?

I’m also pretty active on LinkedIn, so feel free to connect with me there:
linkedin.com/in/sharittamarshallmba

And if you’re into podcasts, definitely check out mine — The Unwritten Rules: Thriving In Corporate Spaces. It’s all about real talk for Black professionals navigating spaces that don’t always make room for us. You’ll hear stories, strategies, and some things we all wish someone had told us sooner.

However we connect next, just know I’m cheering you on. Keep showing up. Keep owning your space. You deserve nothing less.

This was very inspiring. Thank you so much for joining us!